Once Upon a Pigeon's Prom
by pigeonattack
Summary: Ah, prom. Shelby deems it a miracle. Laura says it's a disaster. Nigel declares a state of emergency. For Otto, it's amusement. For Wing, it's confusion. For Franz, it's a pot of gold. Alas for poor Nero, who has no idea what he's gotten himself into.
1. Proms and Problems

**Cheese Warning****!**

**I really, really, really hope you guys know how much you mean to me. You set of readers are an author's dream come to life. My first multi-chap is dedicated to all of you. If you've read, if you've smiled, especially if you reviewed… this is for you. As for those that favorited me/any of my fics, you guys make my life. I cry every time I see a "so-and-so has added you to their favorite authors list…". I really do. Thank you.**

***End cheddar*******

**Disclaimer: Dr. Nero owns HIVE.**

**xxxxx**

"_Love is a serious mental disease"_

_-Plato_

_**xxxxx**_

"Yet the fact still stands that they've done exceptionally well this year. I think they deserve a reward, an incentive to continue to work hard in the future. Positive reinforcement."

Nero shook his head to the man on the screen. "Diabolus, H.I.V.E. has never done something like this, and it will drastically deviate the students' focus."

"Think about it as another aspect of their education: how to throw big, grand, show-off-your-power-and-wealth parties."

As every self-respecting super villain was well aware of, the core methodology comprised of three P's: plan, pursue, and party. The final one was perhaps the most important. What good is it to spend all that time and money if one can't brag?

The headmaster thought about it, then shook his head again. "Perhaps at Halloween, or maybe Christmas. Now is not the time."

"And why not? Their exams will be finished, and they can be rewarded for their hard work."

"You know exactly why. Many students are already showing signs of birds and bees, etcetera. They might associate this time of year with—" he shuddered "—prom."

"Well, your school is called HIVE…"

"It's not funny, Diabolus. Just yesterday, I had to send Raven after Argentblum and his latest girlfriend. Do you know what they were doing?"

Diabolus bit his lip. "I'd rather not."

"And similar things have been happening all the time, many of them even worse."

"It's inevitable, Max. You've got several hundred pubescent teenagers stuck in one school, with little non-academic stimulation—"

"We have water polo."

"But that's it! That's all! And these days, what with the values being demonstrated in popular culture and all—"

"All external communication is cut off. My students can't even _access_ popular culture."

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Max."

There was a silence.

"Why don't you just give them an opportunity to let all out this birds-and-bees business? Then, you won't have to worry about it for the rest of the year."

"I rather think this would be the perfect catalyst for… you know, " Nero grumbled.

"Just think about it. I have to go now." Diabolus disappeared from the screen, leaving Nero to brood. And brood. In a bad mood.

Because try as he might, he could not deny that what his friend said made sense. He might not even have to take part in it. Someone else could organize.

For one night, during which he could hide safely in his quarters and send Raven out on duty (which she may or may not be happy about; it didn't matter), the students would have an opportunity to let out their hormones (for better or worse; Nero hoped for the former). Then, after that, they could start their next term (hopefully) without distractions, and have a nice little incentive. That didn't sound bad.

However… what would it be like? Would it be the formal ball thrown by GLOVE members every year or so? Or would it bear more resemblance to high school flings?

Nero brooded some more. Finally, he made up his mind.

"HIVEmind, please get me…er_…(who would be good at this?)…_ Professor Pike. I need to speak with him immediately, about… well, he'll see. And please let Raven know that she has a chaperoning assignment.

**xxxxx**

"Is it just me, or is Professor Pike on a sugar high?" Laura murmured.

At the front of the classroom, Pike was springing around as he pointed to various spots on the smartboard. "Thus, as the particles dance- er- pass at zero-point-five-c, they'll collide. Think of it-" (leaping over to another diagram) "-as a scaled-down model of the LHC-"

Wing glanced at the clock, just as the loud triple notes sounded, signaling the end of class.

"Oh, good, I have much work to be done," Pike said excitedly. "Don't forget, your exam results for this class are coming in tonight! Ask HIVEmind!"

Five minutes later, at their usual lunch table, Shelby pulled out a giant textbook (Sabotage- Time-tested Techniques) and started scribbling furiously in a spiral notebook. "Just gotta take a few more notes…"

"She didn't study last night," Laura explained.

Otto made a _tsk_ sound. "Bad girl, Shelby."

"What were you doing?" Wing inquired.

Laura answered for her. "Nothing. Lounged around."

Otto shook his head. "Naughty, naughty."

Shelby rolled her eyes. "You're just sour 'cause I scaled the brick wall twice as fast as you. And you fell."

Otto stood up abruptly. "I keep telling you! It WASN'T my fault! The MOSS did it!"

"Yeah," said Laura. "Go ahead. Blame the inanimate plant."

Wing, rather tired of this recurring discussion of yesterday's Tactical exam, changed the subject. "This pasta is delicious."

"It's the same one they've been serving throughout the two years we've been here," Shelby replied.

"I know. It's delicious."

For his efforts, Wing garnered odd looks.

Laura opened her blackbox, perusing results from yesterday's written exams. "Otto, how'd you fail History? Haven't you memorized the textbook?"

Otto looked exasperated. "I didn't _fail_ the test; I just found a hundred ways to do it wrong."

There was no reply.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence. As they were leaving the cafeteria, Shelby's eyes lasered in on something on the wall, half hidden behind a crowd of giggling ditzies. She stopped to read it, causing the others to pause as well. Her eyes widened.

"No way…"

"Holy-" breathed Otto.

Laura stepped up to scrutinize the black and white poster, no bigger than a sheet of letter paper. It was inconspicuous. It was the only one they could see. It was almost as if it didn't want to be noticed. Upon reading it, she froze. "What the bloody _hell_ has gotten into Nero's mind?"

Wing squinted. "What's 'prom'?"

**xxxxx**

**Just wondering…anyone wanna guest-star? Send me a pm, saying, like, "ME ME ME!" or something. It'll be a short bit of stardom, and I'm only accepting the first three people who contact me. One more prerequisite: there's a Ben Franklin quote somewhere in the second section. Gotta find it!**

**PLEASE review. I've been setting this story up for months.**

**Perhaps… story alert?**

**Excuse my impertinence.**

**Watch out for chapter two, coming soon!**

**Love ya!**

**:)pigeonattack**


	2. Gold and Goldfish

**It's my birthday on the eleventh. Wanna get me something? :D**

**Featuring ****I'mTheGirlWhoLearnedToFly****, an incredible author of the PJO (Percy Jackson) fandom.**

**xxxxx**

"_When a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest of motives."_

- Ben Franklin, the BOSS

xxxxx

Laura managed to muster up enough energy to moan for the twentieth time, "This is a disaster."

"Oh stop it." Shelby was rolling back and forth on her bed (1), squealing with delight, as she'd been for the past hour or so. "This. Is. The. Greatest. Thing. EVEEER!"

"Personally, I must agree with Laura," Wing muttered, scooting over a bit as not to be run/rolled over by the crazed blonde. "If we are supposed to dance… What happens to those that don't know how? How are we supposed to find partners, anyways?"

"Er..." Laura scratched her head. "I don't know, really, but I don't think people really dance at dances. I have no idea regarding how to get a partner."

"Maybe Dr Nero will assign them," Wing guessed.

Otto snickered.

Shelby cracked up. "Assign? Of course not. What are you guys, two year olds?"

"Then how do we do it?" Laura demanded. "Just because some people have had twenty—sorry, _twenty-three _boy—" she hastily added as Shelby widened her eyes.

The blonde subtly shook her head, like_ stop, now._

"What, has it gone to twenty-four—" She abruptly stopped. "Oops."

Otto, now apparently suffering from abdominal pain, excused himself and dashed off to the restroom.

Wing's eyes narrowed. "Boyfriends?"

"Oh, no, of _course_ not," Shelby half-yelped. "Goldfish. Boy ones. And I had twenty-six girl ones. And they had babies. So I had more… and I had to get a bigger tank!"

"Yeah!" Laura mentally rolled her eyes. Trust Shelby to come up with _goldfish_.

xxxxx

"Hi! I'm the girl who learned to fly. Guess what? Professor Pike gave me a job! I pass out flyers, he gives me a shiny new bookmark shaped like Blackjack the pegasus! Oops, sorry. Did I knock you down?"

Nigel picked himself up off the floor, where he'd resided for the past few seconds following being knocked flat on his back following an attempt to turn a corner in a corridor.

Franz, meanwhile, stared at the little flyer. "This. Is. Gold."

Nigel shook his head. "No. It's dead tree." Then he took a closer look. He froze. "What the he-"

"It's a prom ad!" Fly danced around. "And yeah, because this is HIVE we're talking about, it IS gold! Figuratively. Alright. I'm on my way."

The crazy little writer sped off to wreak havoc elsewhere.

"It is not being only that," Franz whispered. "Nigel, now that the news is out, do you know what our fellow peers are needing?"

"Uh, shock medicine? Life vests?" Nigel looked rather panicked. "This is a state of emergency! HIVE students are junior supervillains. Most of us have no dating experience. A fourth of us are geeks. Another fourth are..." He tried to find a good word to describe Henchmen students.

"Exactly!"

"I'm glad you agree."

"I am being glad as well to have a partner in my new dating service! We can be recruiting Shelby as well!"

xxxxx

"I'm sorry, Max, but what you're asking of me is absolutely impossible. Why don't you have HIVEmind chaperone? He'd be a better overseer than me." Raven was trying very hard to keep her calm. She was still recovering from the news of the upcoming special event (during which the phrase "Have you lost your mind?" came up often) when Nero announced the lucky chaperone.

"Ah, Natalya," he replied from her blackbox screen. "Nobody is better than you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"You'd be much more threatening than an AI should the need arise. All I'm asking of you is to make sure that the festivities remain...clean. Relatively so."

"Absolutely impossible," Raven repeated.

"Wait a minute. Several days ago you denied the very word existed in your book."

"That was before this," she growled.

"Natalya, please. Four hours of this is all I'm asking. Actually, three hours of your time may be all that's necessary. The first hour shouldn't be too bad..."

Raven pursed her lips. "Three hours?"

The next morning, it was discovered that Shelby wasn't the only one enthusiastic about the new developments.

Far from it.

In fact, enthusiastic was probably an understatement.

Squeals, giggles, and nudges filled the corridors on their way to Tactical Education.

Walking through the halls was never as uncomfortable as it was now. Wing didn't understand it. He could feel stares piercing into the back of his head. Whispering started up everywhere he set foot. The strangest part was that all this attention came from females only.

Shelby appeared to be in a bad mood, shooting glares in every direction.

"Otto, is there dirt on my nose?"

Otto took the lovely opportunity. "When is your nose ever clean?"

Wing rubbed his nose. Perhaps that was the issue, though that didn't explain the fact that it was only girls who stared and whispered.

It wasn't any better when they arrived at class.

Colonel Francisco had a very hard time getting anyone to put on their new stealth suits properly. He finally had to resort to alternative methods.

"TRINITY! WALLACE! FANCHU! MINSON! OVER HERE!"

"Uh oh. What'd you do this time?" Laura muttered as two of her friends walked off.

The four chosen ones waited apprehensively as Francisco scowled at them. "Teach the rest of these pea brains how to put their suits on. I'll come back in five minutes. You better have it done."

He left.

Which turned out to be a very bad mistake.

As one, a torrent of girls inundated Wing, with cries of "Ooh, help ME!" and "I need help!" and a lot of fluttering eyelashes.

By the afternoon, Laura and Otto were vastly amused, Shelby was the opposite, and Wing was no less confused.

"I don't get it," he said. They were all in the boys' bedroom, shielded from the craziness outside.

"Then you're an idiot." Shelby rolled onto her stomach, smashing her face into her pillow.

"Aye, even I get it." Laura was grinning ear to ear. "Trust the female population to select the one guy who won't respond to their affections."

"What about me?" Otto complained. "Aren't I worthy? Why don't I have a fan club?"

"You'd be surprised," Shelby replied, rolling back over, her eyes darting to their redheaded companion. "You're just as dense, Otto. You guys don't take any hints. You're both totally oblivious to the obvious."

"Obtuse," Laura added, turning away.

There was a silence, during which Wing processed this information.

"So…" Otto began tentatively. "I have a fan club?"

"Uh huh." Shelby nodded.

xxxxx

(1)…In a manner reminiscent of yours truly.

xxxxx

**Decent? Hope so.**

**The more reviews I get, the more inspired I am to humbly serve the fangirl (and boy?) population.**

**It doesn't have to be much. Just a little something to acknowledge the fact that I worked really hard on this chapter.**

**:)pigeonattack**

**PS: I apologize sbout the goldfish. Couldn't help it. Actually, it was the first thing that came to mind. When I was thinking of a chapter name, it was conveniently there.**


	3. Pride and Prejudice

**Yes, yes, I'M SO SORRY!**

**I realize that I haven't updated in nearly a month, and my readers deserve better treatment than that. I won't make excuses . However, I hope the fact that this is a pretty long chapter (for my standards) makes up for it. It's over 1,200 words.**

**Please welcome the one and only Abstract Cupcake, a reader from and before the very beginning of my fanfiction career and whose HIVE fic has not been updated in eons, for which she must be forgiven, because she's epicness incarnate.**

**Off with the purposely manufactured delay, and on with the story!**

xxxxx

"By persistently remaining single, a man converts himself into a permanent public temptation."

-Oscar Wilde

xxxxx

The first proposal came the next morning after their last class of Stealth and Evasion for a whole semester, in the form of a stammering Political/Financial streamer. Shelby looked stony as she adamantly walked on. Laura, out of respect for the shaking girls, moved away as well. Otto couldn't resist staying to watch.

"W-w w-w-w-"

Otto couldn't tell if she was trying to say "Wing" or "would".

The blushing girl took a deep breath. ""Wing, w-wouldyougowithmetothedance?"

Wing froze. "Pardon me. What was that?"

"Would you go with me to the dance? If you're already going with someone else..."

There was an awkward silence. Wing seemed to be in shock. Otto could plainly tell that his best friend did _not_ want to go with her, but had no idea how to express that. He stepped up, mentally facepalming at Wing's utter hopelessness.

"Sorry, he's taken-" The girl looked very disappointed, and turned to leave. Struck by a sudden genius inspiration, Otto flashed a grin. "-but I'm available!"

Wing raised his eyebrows. The girl looked horrified, and ran off without a backward glance.

"Huh? What's wrong with me?"

xxxxx

"Yes, Shelby, I turned her down. Well, Otto did for me."

"Oh, good. I mean, good for you." Shelby seemed able to continue eating now that that was established.

"And then he asked _her_ to go with him."

Both girls' spoons stopped dead in their tracks.

"No way..." Shelby grinned broadly. "And...?"

"She turned him down," said Laura. She glanced at him astride. "Right?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah." Otto didn't seem to care too much. "Ah, well. I've a huge waiting list anyways. What can I say? I'm irresistible."

"Aye, indeed." The sarcasm was perhaps excessively heaped, as Shelby launched into a flurry of giggles. A teensy bit of milk spurted from her nose.

Laura glared, while Wing cocked his head. "And who exactly are the lucky girls who've made it to the list?"

"Long list, or short list?"

"Short list, please."

Otto laid down his fork to count off on his fingers. "That rich P/F girl- I think her name's Paloma Balenciaga, um... Jack Starbright from Henchmen Stream's CPO Division... Annie Whitcomb..."

"Isn't that one of those geeky Techies?" Shelby asked through a mouthful.

"She's not _that_ geeky. Anyways, I like geeks."

"Of that, I've no doubt."

Laura spoke up, breaking the silence. "So... what makes Annie special? Why not... _another_ geeky person?"

More milk spurted un-ladylike-ly from Shelby's nose. Wing looked faintly disgusted at the airborne mixture of human and bovine bodily fluids.

"She's rich. Her uncle has a heap of Apple stock," said Otto.

"So… you like rich people, aye?"

"Yeah. Why not? Oh, and they have to be hot. Like, _really_ hot."

"You don't care how shallow they are."

"Well, they can't be airheads. But really-"

"The word f-e-m-i-n-i-s-m means nothing to you."

"I'm not _against _it."

"You've got a wait list, and you won't consider anyone else."

"You haven't heard all of them-"

"That's okay." Laura's voice had steadily risen in pitch, and was now strangely high. "I don't want to." She picked up her bag tray, standing from the table. "I have work to do in the library."

An awkward minute passed in silence.

Otto looked confused. "What work? Our exams are all over."

"Soul-searching and fuming are probably on her to-do list," said Shelby. "Otto, you really messed up there."

"What? What do _I_ have to do with her temper?"

"_Everything_. You've got everything to do with it." Shelby stood up with her finished tray. "You've got to stop being so... _obtuse_. I'll see what I can do to clean up your mess."

"WHAT'D I DO!" Otto demanded.

Shelby left without a word.

Wing was wisely keeping his head low, metaphorically and literally, as he was suddenly acutely interested in the tabletop.

xxxxx

Abstract Cupcake dramatically burst into Franz and Nigel's dorm room. "PEOPLE! WE HAVE A HUUUGE ISSUE!"

"How'd you get in?" asked Nigel.

Cupcake brushed away the question with a little wave, starting to pace. She adjusted her tiara. Not wanting to be left out of the limelight, Franz paced, too. "What is it, Lieutenant?" He glanced at Nigel. "You are not minding if she is being the Lieutenant, _ja_?"

"I'd be perfectly happy to be left out of the whole thing."

"Commander, Operation Ottra is not sorting itself out, as we had planned- and hoped- it would."

Nigel snorted. "Frankly, I'm not surprised."

Cupcake smiled grimly. " As do I. However, Agent S seems well in control of the situation. Mostly."

Franz looked surprised. "We've recruited her?"

"No."

"But-"

"She is working for us, albeit without knowledge of doing so. She must be given a name."

"'Agent S' is sounding pretty cheesy."

"Nigel did the code-naming, not me."

They both looked at the diminutive(1) Darkdoom on the twin bed.

"It's not like I had much time to go fancy-schmancy," Nigel protested.

There was a silence.

"In any case," Cupcake cleared her throat. "I say it's time we start some hard-core recruiting. I know of some people, and Pigeonattack-"

"Now _that_ is being a wicked name." Franz nodded approvingly (2).

"-knows some others. I'll get going now. We must save Operation Ottra at all costs."

She left in a flurry of capes and a glint of tiara.

"Did she say…'Pigeonattack'?" Nigel whispered.

'Yes. Why?"

"My dad's told me bits about her. He's pretty scared of her. Says he's really glad he's not Gaddafi right now, because she's on his tail. She hates him for what he's done."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Why didn't she take him down thirty years ago?"

"She wasn't born then. PIgeonattack's a year younger than us: fourteen."

"Wow. She's not at HIVE?"

"I think she's…seasonal. Here on…contract."

"That is being… _tight_."

"Yeah."

xxxxx

(1) I couldn't resist that word.

(2) I must agree.

xxxxx

**I apologize. I must seem so narcissistic right now. I honestly couldn't help it. ;D**

**I have a POLL on my profile. Please vote to tell me what you'd like the fluff level to be, i.e. super-high, or super-low. To make you happy, I have to know these things.**

**While you're at it, I also have a pretty regularly updated BLOG-ish thing.**

**PLEASE **_**review, favorite, **_**and **_**story alert **_**for more!**

**:)pigeonattack**


	4. Fire and Fury

**Sooo, according to the results of my poll {as of yet), the majority of you wish for me to take the fluff level up a notch. Okee, then…**

**My dear readers, there's content in here that may make you very…unhappy. Please, if you care about Laura, for the sake of your happiness, leave this page.**

**However, if you do wish to stay and read, please let me know you've done so via review, so that I can properly thank you for suffering alongside our favorite red-headed Alpha.**

**Note: I've swithed from ooooo's to xxxxx's. It looks better, methinks.**

**xxxxx**

_Any action, if sincere, is involuntary._

_-Mark Twain_

xxxxx

"Laura? Laaauura!" Shelby whisper-called, weaving through the massive bookshelves. She made her way through the geek section, where she was sure Laura would be skulking. It wasn't hard to get lost in the huge maze, but she knew the route quite better than she cared to acknowledge.

At last, she spotted a flaming head of hair poking out from behind the back of a big leather armchair.

"Laura!"

The redhead twisted around in her seat, then turned back away. "Hi, Shel."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing much. This book here is pretty interesting. You know, I was pretty sure there's insufficient proof of the Higgs Boson's existence until I opened this thing, but now—"

Shelby sighed, flopping into an adjacent seat. "No, Brand. I see right through ya."

Laura opened her mouth to protest.

"Laura, don't. Contrary to my inclinations, I'm not here to tease. I just wanted to ask you one thing: Do you wanna talk about it, or would you rather I get my butt outta here and leave you alone?"

The other girl was silent.

"You _do_ realize I'm trying to do the job of 'consoling best friend' and you're not making it very easy?"

"You don't have to. Nothing's wrong."

"Laura!" Shelby exasperatedly threw back her head. "You've been totally in love with him for who knows how long, and you still won't admit it. Just get it out and get it done with already!"

Laura's face was now completely hidden behind the book. "Other than your rant, there's nothing to get done with. Shelby, we've been through this. I promised not to tease you if you don't tea—"

"BUT I'M NOT TEASING!" Shelby bellowed to the ceiling.

"Shut up; the librarian's going to come and kick us out," Laura hissed.

"I'm not teasing," Shelby repeated in a slightly lower tone. "I'm trying to help you, here."

"I don't need your help. If I did, I wouldnae deny you the joy of charity."

"Fine, then. Don't say I didn't offer." In a little huff, Shelby marched out of the vicinity. (1)

Laura sat there, turning page after page, eyes moving without taking in any meaning. Her mind was elsewhere entirely.

She'd told Shelby- and herself- that nothing was wrong.

It was true.

Or so she kept telling herself.

Her mind had blamed her sudden exit from the dining hall on eagerness to check out the library's recent intake of books. The clenching feeling in her stomach when she'd heard Otto reciting his list of suitors? She knew there must be a logical explanation for that, too, one that preferably didn't involve the conclusion that most other people considered blatantly obvious.

Perhaps it was natural that she should feel protective. She'd known him for over two years, and considered him a very close friend.

_Maybe even _more_ than friends,_ whispered a tiny little voice in the back of her head.

_Shut up._

_Shelby's right. Don't deny it. You've been doing so for over two years._

_There's simply _nothing_ to deny._

The voice raised in volume.

_Oh, listen to yourself. You know you've been staring at him over the lunch table, brushing his hand intentionally every time you're partners in Tech, dreaming—_

_So? _ Laura grit her teeth.

_So, like Shelby said, you're in lo—_

_Don't say that word!_

_Oh, come off it, Brand. You know there's no one else in the universe like him._

_Every living organism is unique._

_It's not just that! There isn't- will never be- anyone so…perfect…_

_Ugh! What are these voices coming from! This is turning into a cheap romance novel! (2)_

_It's not. This is just the other side of you that you never let anyone see. Although, of course, Shelby knows it's there…_

_Just SHUT UP! I never asked for you!_

Laura leapt up from her armchair, overturning onto the floor the book she'd forgotten was in her lap. She was off to the computer lab to clear her mad mind…

xxxxx

…which turned out to be a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea. A _terrible_ idea.

The wall separating the computer lab from the corridor had a long window, running nearly entirely the length of the wall itself. It wasn't soundproof, which was quite inconvenient and annoying when people wanted to work in peace, so Nero had arranged to have a new window installed after the hectic rush of the upcoming…"event" (he never used the word "prom" in front of the students, which was pointless; everyone thought of the "event" as more or less a prom).

However, at the moment, Laura could hear voices emanating from inside quite clearly. She'd just reached that section of the hallway when she recognized one of the two voices. Laura froze.

"—yeah, but have you heard of the relativistic barn and the other crazy dude (3)?"

It was a voice she'd been listening to for more than two years.

"Actually, no. Tell me." This feminine one with an American accent was a voice Laura sort of recognized. She found it hard to place… Oh, yes. That Whitcomb girl from Tech…

_Whitcomb_. That girl on the…_list_. So, he'd selected, had he? Feeling a strange, fiery _something_ rushing through her veins, Laura clenched her hands.

"It'd be my pleasure. So, there's this guy with a thirteen-foot ladder that needs to be fit in a barn…"

Laura ducked, so that she was hidden by the wall. The rest of Otto's explanation went unheard.

Annie, huh?

Laura involuntarily grit her teeth.

Annie Whitcomb was a Tech student, the brilliant daughter of some high-up in Silicon Valley. Or Mountain View. One of those California places Laura had dreamed of visiting since she first wrote a hard drive, anyways. She had long, dark brown hair that somehow managed to fall in loose ringlets at the bottoms. Her eyes, according to Shelby, were what sappy novels would call "melted chocolate". At age fifteen, she'd already secured a spot at Diabolus Darkdoom's personal lab.

Laura Brand couldn't make any of those claims to fame.

Annie and Otto were laughing about the relativistic barn. Laura felt a painful clench as she remembered a night not too long ago…

"_Otto?" Laura asked. "Have you heard of the relativistic barn?"_

_The other occupant of the library shook his spiky-haired head. "Nope. Where'd you read about it?"_

_She held up her book, _Special and General Relativity_. "This thing's really fascinating."_

"_I'll bet it is." Otto grinned, standing from the sofa he was taking up to sit next to her. She could have sworn the temperature went up a notch._

_Laura cleared her throat, closing the book, but leaving a finger to mark the page. "So, there's this guy with a thirteen-foot ladder, which he needs to fit into a ten-foot barn. He thinks he's all savvy with relativity. Now, space warps in different inertial frames when an object travels at the speed of light, right (3)? So, he somehow manages to run at the speed of light with his ladder. Now, tell me. Does he fit the ladder in the barn?"_

_Otto chuckled. "No. He gets a huge bruise."_

_Laura smiled. "And why?"_

"_To an onlooker, he'd be shrinking as he approaches _c._ However, to him, the barn's shrinking. So, he can't brake in time, and the barn goes kaboom!"_

Tears formed in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she remembered how they'd laughed so hard that the librarian chased them out (_Miss Brand! Mr. Malpense! I expected more of you two!_). Choking down a sob, she stood up and sprinted away.

xxxxx

(1) Shelby's as impatient as I. :D

(2) Any Foaly fans out there?

(3) See _Love, Romance, and Relativity_ for info on the crazy kid with the butcher knives and the relativistic snake, and space warps.

xxxxx

**Holy roly-poly. The end of the school year totally snuck up on me, and that's the deadline for the last chapter…**

**I have to get moving. :o**

**Howevah, I have an amazing group of supporters, which helps a LOT. Thank you, and keep reviewing, cuz…**

**Even if I finish a chapter, I usually deign to wait till my quota is reached. Call it an idiosyncrasy. ;D**

**Love ya!**

**:)pigeonattack**


	5. Ice and Ignorance

**Hey, people.**

**This chapter's less heavy (I'm no good at heavy…) but it's still not-so-light on Laura's part.**

**Reensie17 wished to include an OC rather than herself. Thus, I give you NIKKI.**

xxxxx

"_It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily._

"_So it is."_

"_And freezing."_

"_Is it?"_

"_Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately."_

xxxxx

"Nigel."

"Yeah, Franz?"

"I've have been having a terrible thought."

"And that is…?"

"There is being no currency at HIVE."

There was a silence between the two boys in the dorm.

Nigel raised an eyebrow. "So…?"

"We are running a dating service! How do we get _paid_!" Franz jumped off his bed, clearly distraught. He started pacing, a habit he'd picked up from his lieutenant.

"Uh… I don't know." Nigel shrugged. "Satisfaction?"

Franz stopped in his tracks. "Are you saying all we get out of our labor is _fun_?"

"Maybe. It is kinda fun. Maybe instead of being a dating service, we could be—"

A look of dawning wonder appeared on the commander's face.

"NINJA MATCHMAKERS!" he bellowed(1). "Great idea, me! Since Cupcake has been doing that already, how about the rest of us! From now on, I will be going into the thick of the action!"

"Fine by me. I'll just stay safely in here."

Franz pulled out his blackbox, requesting a call. An agent's face emerged on the screen. "Agent Key," he whispered, very 007-ish-ly, "You have a new assignment."

"Roger."

As he snapped it shut, Nigel grinned to himself. "I think I'm getting pretty good at codenames…"

xxxxx

"Shelby, I'm going to be your lab partner today," Laura announced as they sat down at Tech.

Shelby cocked her head. "Sure, but why?"

"Who else would I sit with?"

"I dunno. Otto?"

"Who's that?"

Shelby sighed, something she'd been doing much of lately around Laura. "Brand, this is getting really ridiculous. Anyways, if you don't pair up with him, Annie—"

"Who's _that_?"

Rolling her eyes, Shelby gave in. Temporarily.

Otto was already sitting next to Annie anyways.

Shelby did her best to ignore the dark mutterings Laura was emitting every few seconds.

At the end of class, their project resembled a shapeless lump. Otto and Annie's was lauded in front of the class.

"Ah, now this is quite innovative. Brilliant usage of the array, Mr Malpense and Miss Whitcomb!" Professor Pike exclaimed. "What a surprising result of your partnership. You two work brilliantly together!"

A smattering of wolf-whistles and giggling came from the students. Annie beamed, standing to take a curtsy. Laura's knuckles were as white as the Smartboard.

Shelby patted her back. "It's okay. He only meant as Lab partners…"

But as the days wore on, Shelby seemed less and less sure of herself with every repeat of the mantra.

xxxxx

Nikki, a.k.a. Agent Key, was ready for action. She bounced giddily on the balls of her feet as she waited at a turn in the corridor. Around the corner, two people were approaching, and judging by their affectionate tones and geeky subject matter, they could only be her targets.

Quietly, she opened a door and stood back. The moment they came into view, she roundhouse kicked them into the closet. A shriek and cry of surprise erupted as she slammed the closet shut and turned the key. Ah, roundhouses. Not as effective as other maneuvers, but certainly very stylish.

As she dusted off her hands and strolled away, she was totally oblivious to her huge boo-boo.

xxxxx

(1) Heh. Brings to mind the image of a bunch of black-clad dudes dipping tiny pieces of wood into whatever that red stuff is…

xxxxx

**Two words: UH-OH**

**I've been going nuts with schoolwork, so, yes, I admit that was a puny chapter (albeight longer than ye olde one-shots, eh?). In addition, this chapter was really hard for me to write.**

**Please review to make me feel justified in my meanness to Miss Brand. I hope I didn't do a totally crappy job.**

**Hurry up and review so I can post the next chapter, possibly by next week…**


	6. Doom and Ditzyness

I was listening to "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" while writing this. Green Day kept me going.

Maybe you should listen while reading. Just an idea…

**xxxxx**

"_Lord, what fools these mortals be!"_

-Uh, I forgot his name… Bill What's-it… Something about a sword, no, a vibrating arrow…

xxxxx

Nigel's last name seemed strangely appropriate for his current mood.

He paced back and forth, having unconsciously picked up the habit under the lieutenant's influence. HIVEmind had passed on disastrous news, though he hadn't seen what happened after the door slammed. Perhaps he was better off that way.

The small Alpha sighed. Every broom closet in HIVE was monitored 24-7. Part of a new program Nero had administered. Diabolus thought it was all very funny, and he warned Nigel not to do anything silly, which was unnecessary, because Nigel never planned on getting a girlfriend anyways. This was in marked contrast with Franz, who was helping with some bird as he stood there...

The only unmonitored broom closet was the one Agent Key had utilized, after busting the concealed camera. Key had done her job too well, and then messed it up completely. Nigel gritted his teeth. The girl had no idea what this meant for Nigel.

He opened the blackbox. 9pm. Franz wouldn't be back till after curfew. Cupcake and Fly were deployed elsewhere. Key had escaped the island upon realizing her mistake. Security was too busy to apprehend one crazy little runaway, who really didn't pose much threat to HIVE anyways.

That left one person to fix the damage. One person who didn't even have much of a snazzy title: "Second" Commander. Steeling himself, the deputy grabbed his blackbox and left the dorm.

xxxxx

"Well," muttered Annie, giving another futile pounding to the door. "This is an interesting turn of events."

"Yeah," said Otto absently. His mind was occupied elsewhere. His companion was sitting on an upturned empty bucket. She really was pretty, and sweet, too. They'd never really spoken until the day before, when he happened across her in the computer lab and asked her to go with him. She'd blushed, and agreed.

She was really smart, too. He couldn't think of anyone else with whom he'd had as many stimulating, hilarious conversations. Well, maybe one person...

He pushed the faint image of two green eyes out of his mind as Annie asked concernedly, "Otto?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay...?"

"Oh, yeah." Otto groped for an excuse of spacing out. "How do you get your hair so... " He reached for a lock, stroking it caressingly. "...soft?"

"Oh." She blushed. "Just... regular shampoo and conditioner. Nothing special."

"Oh."

There was an extremely awkward silence. Otto didn't like awkward silences, although there was someone with whom he'd shared hours of comfortable silence, broken by a comment or two about this fact or that quote...

Shaking his head, he mentally dropped-kicked the thought out of his cerebellum.

Annie raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Thought I felt a spider or something," Otto explained.

"Are we just going to sit here and wait for someone to need cleaning supplies?" asked Annie.

"I guess." Otto shrugged. Then he realized exactly what kind of situation he was in. Primeval instincts awakened in the fifteen-year-old. He could feel a certain heat building...

He glanced at her sideways. "Although there's another option, if we dare."

"What?" Annie asked innocently, though a smirk played on her lips.

Otto really can't be held responsible. He was a hormonal teen, trapped in a volcano with no extra-curricular stimulation, except water polo, which he totally stunk at. Before a thought flickered through either of their minds, Otto had her pined to a wall, one hand beside each of her shoulders.

He wasn't the only one to have undergone a split-second transformation.

"I do dare," Annie purred.

Neither noticed as her blackbox dropped to the floor, hitting something on the way and flipping open. HIVEmind's head swiveled to the activity, eyes in bug-out mode, and watched in rapture.

There's no telling how much the young AI's dwindling vestiges of innocence would have been defiled had the door not whipped open to reveal a shocked Nigel. Heart still pounding, blood still rushing, but slowing quickly, Otto moved away from the girl, who was also breathing hard.

"Uh, you're, um, free," Nigel mumbled awkwardly. Annie picked up her fallen blackbox, snapping it shut on an extremely disappointed looking HIVE mind.

xxxxx

Dr Nero was filing reports on his desk, trying to get them done as quickly as possible. He needed to get to bed. As vast as his endurance could be, he'd been exhausting himself as of late.

He was interrupted by the sight of HIVEmind popping up on his desktop screen.

"Yes, HIVEmind?"

"I have a question"

Dr. Nero was taken aback. A question?

"I've already asked Professor Pike, and he doesn't want to answer me. Maybe you know more than him."

Dr Nero smiled. "You know more than all of us combined."

"No, not about these kinds of things," HIVEmind replied seriously."

"Well, then, I'll do my best. Please make it quick; I've much work to be done."

"Dr. Nero, what happens when a man and a women love each other very much?"

Dr. Nero collapsed onto his paperwork.

xxxxx

Shelby pointedly ignored yet another crowd of adoring girls. She particularly tuned out the girly giggles erupting whenever the ever-polite Wing graced them with a "Good morning", sometimes drawing out a "Hey, Wing!" from the bold. Several girls would faint on the spot at the slightest glance from the heartthrob.

Wing frowned. "Why is everyone so weird lately?"

"_They're_ not the abnormalities. _You're_ the oblivious one. Look," Shelby said impatiently, "just stop acknowledging them, and they won't be so 'weird'. Ignore them. Please. For the sake of my sanity."

Wing gripped her shoulder, eliciting glares of envy from the bystanders. "Shelby, please stop."

Shelby did so, but did not turn to face him.

"Why have you been so grumpy lately? Is it something I've done?"

_Yeah, it's everything you do_, Shelby thought sourly, but she forced a carefree smile. "No, of course not. I'm just…" She wildly groped for a reason. "…worried about Laura. You know, she's been skipping meals and stuff. Pretty much been a recluse ever since Otto got with Annie."

"Yes. It can't be healthy. I wonder why that could be."

Shelby gently bonked him on the forehead. "Dude, you're totally oblivious."

Her happy mood did not last long. A black-clad girl with glossy dark hair sidled up to them, grasping Wing's hand.

Shelby froze in horror. This was totally unexpected.

No other girl had been brave enough to do that.

Not even Shelby herself.

_Then comes this ditzy hourglass…_

Her insides clenched, as something in the depths of her stomach growled menacingly…

"Hey, Ninja," she crooned. "Funny how such a hot guy could still be dateless a week before the dance." She swiveled him so they were chest-to-chest. "But that's an easy fix."

Wing's uncertain eyes flickered in Shelby's direction.

Shelby waited for him to turn her away. _Try to be nice, though. Actually, on second thought…_

Wing smiled uncertainly. "Well, yes, I'd like to, but—"

"Oh, _perfect._" Hourglass tugged him away. "I want to go tell my friends…"

"Wait! I didn't mean that!" Wing protested futilely, twisting around to look for Shelby.

The blonde was nowhere in sight.

xxxxx

There's a reason I rated this T. ;D

**Hope Otto didn't freak out anyone who somehow wasn't yet bored to death…**

**Thought you guys might be interested that the HIVE book covers just got a brilliantly epic makeover. I saw them on amazon-dot-co-dot-uk.**

**Insert hyperfreak.**

_**Please**_** review. Could be one word. Tell me that the chapter was too short. Tell me what you think of Annie Dearest. Tell me I've been neglecting Wing and Shelby even though I have **_**their**_** own road all mapped out, and part of it written already…**

**Does anyone mind if this fic goes into July-ish? Cuz I've suddenly had an influx of ideas. Otherwise, I'll just keep it on time (as in within June)… but short.**

**Love ya!**

**:)pidge (um hm, newly accepted nickname)**


	7. Mess Up and Fess Up

**It's been just two days. The fastest in pigeonattack history, due mainly to the reviews that gave me a stomachache.**

**I think it IS possible to die of laughing.**

* * *

**One word, with three syllables, that starts with a W, ends with a Y, and rhymes with "bee"… cuz I've been neglecting this most epic of pairings.**

**By the way, I found out how to do line breaks. Yay. Let me know if you like the xxxxx better.  
**

* * *

"_If we knew what it was we were doing, it would not be called research, would it?"_

-Albert Einstein, the other BOSS, and my idol. He readily defied authority in EVERY way. Plus, the guy's hilarious.

* * *

Shelby grimaced, shifting her weight off of her sore side. From her vantage point, she had a stunning 360-degree vista of Grappler Cavern 6's famed décor. Dr. Nero's cleaning teams, with all their high-tech maintenance methods, couldn't ever scour off the lab-concocted permanent concoction, and his attempts to have it chiseled off were much more time and trouble than the time and trouble it took students to redecorate. HIVEmind was supposed to watch over the area, but he never ratted on the kids. He thought it made HIVE more colorful, which Shelby agreed with, in more ways than one.

Thus, generations of knowledge and wisdom were posted high and bright, mostly for the benefit of the innocent minded.

The blonde Alpha, however, was in no mood to appreciate it. Her right side hurt like hell. She'd been smoothly gliding through the concrete forests with the mechanisms that now rested by her side. Her mind drifting elsewhere, she had failed to notice a small block as she rounded a corner, and _bam_, her right side was on fire. She'd stopped to check the damage, relieved to find that she hadn't broken anything.

Unfortunately, she'd probably wake up tomorrow feeling (and maybe looking) like a broken grape, at least on her right side.

A bad mental image of a Shelby-headed grape with human legs in black leggings cropped up in her mind. It was a terrible memory from first grade that churned her recently eaten dinner.

She sat on the edge, swinging her legs a bit. At least those had escaped damage.

Aside from her, the water seventy-five feet below, and her concrete friends, the cavern was empty. Otto was gallivanting off with Annie, most likely. Laura was probably moping behind some jargon-inscribed tome in the library. Shelby was thoroughly fed up with her, having tried unsuccessfully to reason with her several times since the day that albino idiot blabbed away.

And Wing… She couldn't honestly say she was fed up with him. That would be an understatement. He was probably cuddling up with Hourglass at that very moment…Her insides boiled at the thought.

She was too deeply immersed in the murky realms of Thinkland to hear the _fwip fwip fwip _'s approaching. The fact that she was no longer alone was lost on her until a voice behind her softly greeted, "Hello, Shelby."

An uncharacteristic hard jump of surprise threw her over her already precarious perch on the platform.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze as she hung suspended over the drop.

Shelby could _not_ comprehend the fact that she was falling, and without grapplers.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a hand snapped around her wrist, gripping it tightly to the point of bruising. Shelby barely had time to mentally grumble before its owner pulled her over the edge, helping her to her feet.

She twisted her wrist away, rubbing the bruise. "Great. More sore spots."

"Sorry," said Wing. "I should've known you'd rather take the drop."

"You could've been more gentle." Shelby sat back down, hard, gritting her teeth to keep in the yelp that would've accompanied her sore bottom's complaint. She stared straight ahead as Wing sat down next to her. "Where's Hourgl— that girl who asked you. You said yes, didn't you? Why aren't you snuggling up with her?"

Her voice was approaching borderline accusatory.

Wing was silent for a long time. "I never agreed with her. And _snuggling_?" His voice had a clear note of hurt. "How could you jump to these conclusions?"

Shelby felt a pang of guilt mixed with relief, but quickly retaliated. "She grabbed your hand. You didn't object. I had every reason to believe—"

"Unlike some people, I try to be gentle." There was a pause before he said, "I'm sorry about your wrist."

"It's not just that. The whole right side of my body is killing me."

"Is that my fault?"

Shelby bit her lip. It hurt because she'd smacked into the block, and she'd collided because… "Yeah. Indirectly."

"I'm sorry," Wing said quietly. He turned away. "I never meant to hurt you—"

"Well, you did! Those girls hankering after you, and you letting them like you don't mind, that hourglass, that…that…the…" Shelby had made it to her feet, and now she stood, at a lost for words, because there was one other thing… "Dividing my mind when I'm trying to concentrate, getting my hopes up everyday, and sending them crashing down 'cause you're just so…so… _thick_. Obtuse. Oblivious."

Only after it was all out did she realize with dawning horror what her outburst had been implying. Neither of them moved.

"Forget I said that," she muttered, snatching up her grapplers and strapping them on. She moved to the edge, and was about to aim a grappler, but what Wing said next froze her in mid motion.

"I don't want to." He swiftly stood up and strode over to her, grasping her arm. "Please, Shelby. Turn around."

Slowly, she did, her eyes focusing raptly on the concrete.

"Please look at me."

Shelby settled her eyes on his feet.

She found it so damn frustrating that Wing was the only guy she was ever like this around. Every other guy was a total piece of cake. After all, she had twenty-three—

"At my face, if you don't mind."

She didn't move.

Wing took a deep breath. "Fine. I just want to let you know… I would never _ever_ hurt you on purpose. I'd give anything to take back the things I unintentionally did…but I don't know how to fix it. So, please, instead of fuming when I try to heal things between us, could you… tell me what to do?"

Her heart was pounding madly. The way he spoke…it was like he really cared deeply for her. He always had, but she'd assumed it was just because they were extremely close friends… and here she was accusing him of stuff that was never his fault…

Steeling herself, she moved her gaze two inches higher. "Wing."

"Yes?" His eyes didn't waver one bit.

"Just answer me three questions."

Wing nodded.

Shelby's eyes locked on his. "Have you ever loved anyone, not as a sibling or family member, but as… someone you'd want to be with for the rest of your life?"

Wing didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Shelby's gaze intensified. "Really? How many people?"

Again, Wing's answer was immediate. "One. There, that's three questions."

" 'Really' doesn't count." Shelby snorted.

"It was your second question."

"Not funny, big guy." She did her best to ignore the grin that returned to his face at the returned usage of the pet name. She did her best to ignore the flopping in her stomach. Damn, their faces were so _close... _

"Just one more question," she demanded.

"Go ahead."

"Is that person... me?"

* * *

**Thou must forgiveth me, sweet readers. I don't mean to keep thee hanging so. **_**(Yeah, right…)**_

**This chapter's been on my mind since the beginning of this story's bunny's life. I was super excited to write it. I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out, and I hope you're relatively satisfied.**

**Review quickly, people, an' I'll get all y'all out o' dat dair cliff.**

**Peace.**

**:)pidge**

**Oh yeah. I've recently sort of disentangled a huge mass of plot bunnies and sorted them out by pedigree, which led me to contemplate my future plans. If anyone's curious, check out my bio, towards the bottom. While you're there, I've posted a convenient list of nicknames I currently accept.**

**Just thought I'd mention.**


	8. Washing and Wishes

**I hereby dedicate this chapter to everyone who hates anything to do with dishwashing.**

**To Wingelby fans, this chapter is also a gift to you.**

**Or a curse.**

**Opinions may differ.**

* * *

"_Typical American. Too many movies."_

-Natalya Raven, _Interception Point_

* * *

"WHAT?"

"Oh, don't be like that, it's only a little basinful." Professor Pike hummed cheerfully as he scrubbed the first of hundreds of dishes, the suds merrily filling the tub.

The dozen or so students looked on in disbelief.

The small one near the front piped up again. "_LITTLE?_"

The aforementioned tub was relatively big enough to be a wading pool for the average baby elephant.

"It's not so bad if you whistle while you work! This is a much better detention then, say, doing lines!"

"I'd prefer the lines," another kid muttered.

Someone demanded, "Why don't we have a robot polish these dishes?"

Pike looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, I don't _quite_ have all the bugs worked out… it broke a few dozen porcelain dishes and Dr Nero didn't want to break anymore GLOVE property… not that we couldn't afford to buy more, oh no, we have MORE than enough, but…well…it doesn't look very good when a dishwasher robot breaks dishes."

"What about a normal dishwasher?"

"Dr Nero wants you to spend your detention like this. It's his decision. Please don't ask me anymore."

He promptly launched back into "Whistle While You Work", which the students recognized from one of their first Classic Mistakes To Avoid class, which was mandatory to all students, though what _exactly_ they were to get out of watching a Disney movie remained a mystery.

Eventually, the students gave in, one by one taking up a sponge or cloth.

They were still diligently scrubbing when Ms Leon came in for a peak, having followed the trail of bubbles with a typical cat's curiosity.

"Ugh. Lemon soap," she growled disdainfully, exiting the room with a flick of a fluffy tail.

* * *

The complete and utter silence that filled the cavern rang for almost a full minute, during which time Shelby fiercely held Wing's gaze. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Well?" she demanded.

Wing broke eye contact for the briefest of moments before regaining it, steadily holding it as he whispered, "Yes."

Thunderstruck. That's the only word that she could use to describe herself.

"Um… uh…" Mentally, Shelby swore. What a lovely time to loose her speech functions.

Wing looked away. "It's always been you."

That got her voice back. "Oh, Wing, you hopeless romantic."

He bit his lip. "Hopeless…?"

Shelby's face broke into a huge, genuine smile. "Felt like saying it. Of course not. Come with me to the dance, will ya?"

And, going up on tiptoe to brush her lips against his, she snatched up her grapplers and grapplered away, leaving a rather dazed— but _very_ happy— Wing.

* * *

"Otto? _Otto!"_

The boy in question was jolted to his senses. "Wha—"

Annie was pointing to the computer monitor they were sharing. "What's up? You don't look well."

"I'm fine."

"Good. So, there's an error message here… Are you _absolutely_ sure you sorted out all the bugs?"

It took him awhile to absorb the flashing window. "Oh. Uh, I'm _pretty_ sure I did… Can you fix it?"

"Duh. But I'm surprised to find this bug. I mean, you're practically _inviting_ a virus into this software…"

The rest of her chatter faded from his hearing. He could only vaguely hear the tapping of the keyboard, interrupted every so often as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. They'd come here to work on some of her projects before dinner, but Otto's mind was anywhere but the software…

…because several work stations away, a thoroughly furious looking Alpha was attacking the keyboard as though it had done her some serious insult. She hardly bothered with her own hair, impatiently flicking away a short pigtail every time it got in the way. He'd watched her do that simple action so many times. At least he used to, before—

"Dude! Earth to Otto!"

Otto turned back to Annie with an amused expression. "Since when did I become 'dude'?"

"Two seconds ago. Watcha staring at?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing…"

Her eyes narrowed as she craned her neck to see over him in the other girl's direction. "Oi, Brand! What are _you_ doing here?"

Laura looked up from her monitor. "What?"

"I said,_what_ are you doing here?"

The redhead looked offended. "Don't I have as much right to be here as you?"

"Yeah, but if you're here to steal _our_ ideas—"

"I'm not," Laura responded stiffly. "I'm just… coding. And decoding."

"Why the heck would you be doing that?"

"It's… relaxing."

Annie rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

Otto knew all too well what Laura meant. Coding and decoding were like Zen to her, a way to escape when she was feeling stressed or… whatever negative feeling. He wondered what exactly was bothering her. She'd been very odd around him lately. He didn't want her to be upset, but he never seemed to get a moment to ask her.

She seemed almost… _evasive_.

It made him a little regretful, because they used to be really, really close.

Oh, man. This stuff was giving him a headache…

* * *

"NIGEL!"

"YES, SIR!"

"STATUS REEE-PORT!"

"WHY ARE WE SCREAMING, SIR?"

"I dunno," said Franz, with a more appropriate volume. "But please be telling me. What did you accomplish while I was being occupied?"

Nigel smirked. "You mean, your _mouth_ was occupied."

"Yes. It was. I was doing recruiting."

"Of, _course_, sir." Nigel dripped with sarcasm, which Franz failed to catch.

"You can stop calling me 'sir'."

"Oh, good. That was getting tiring. Anyways, Agent Key made a mess, which I had to fix. Your lieutenant and officers were preoccupied, but I managed."

"Good. And where is Key?"

"Abandoned ship. Well, actually, she abandoned the island on a little boat, but—"

"So she will not mess things up again, _ja_?"

"Affirmative."

There was a silence as Franz took this in.

"So… can I stop speaking all military-like?" Nigel asked hesitantly.

"I suppose so."

"Phew."

"Do you have a date?"

This change of topic was so abrupt, Nigel didn't catch it. "What?"

"Do you have a date for the dance? It's in less than a week, you are knowing."

Nigel was honestly surprised that it was so close. "Really? Well, I don't. And I don't want one."

"Ah," Franz said wisely. "So you are going single and then taking your pick? Good idea."

"Actually, no. I'm gonna stay a bachelor for as long as I can help."

Suddenly, a thought seemed to strike Franz like a lightning bolt. "Oh my chocolate! What are we all going to wear! This—" he plucked at his uniform "—will simply _not_ do!"

And with that, he rushed out of the room.

Nigel sighed. Who knew it'd be a _male_ who made the first fuss about clothes?

The Darkdoom had known it was coming, but he'd been waiting to see who'd freak out first. He'd expected it to be Shelby.

Not _Franz_.

* * *

At precisely the same moment, Dr Nero realized the same thing, and could immediately feel a major headache coming on, possibly a migraine. "Oh, dear…"

He reached for his blackbox. Pike could deal with it.

Nero didn't know that Shelby had gotten to the professor first, and was just then bursting through the door of the lab…

* * *

**I can't comment, or I'd take up a few thousand words.**

**Press that little "review" button, and make my week.**

**Press that little "review" button, and make me write faster, so I can update and spread mental ribbons and frills and chocolate and grapplers and everything else you might find on a prom outfit…**

**Actually, I think everything but the grapplers would make me retch.**

**Yeah, even the chocolate, if overdosed.**

**Sue me.**

**:)pidge**


	9. Dreads and Dresses

**In which the attire issue is addressed at long last, and Otto is a bozo (surprise, surprise…).**

* * *

_"Fashion= frivolous, unnecessary necessities of society_**"**

-Harry Houdini**  
**

* * *

"Professor Pike! PROFESSOR PIKE!"

Professor Pike knew he was in trouble the moment Shelby came bursting back into the lecture hall two minutes after they'd been let out. He looked up from his laptop, where he was grading end-of-term assignments. His eyes flitted to the door way as the blonde ran down the aisle (1), expecting to see her three ever-present companions. He shouldn't have been surprised that the quartet had narrowed down to a duo, knowing full well that Otto had a girlfriend these days and Laura spent all her free time in or in transit to the library (probably due in part to the aforementioned girlfriend).

Right then, the only one standing in the doorway was Wing, who looked rather skeptical of his friend (girlfriend? It was hard to tell).

"Professor," repeated Shelby, who had reached his desk. "What are we going to wear to Prom? We girls _can't_ go in this garb." She plucked distastefully at her uniform.

It took a while for her words to register. When at last they did, he found himself in a pickle. "Er, actually, I never thought about that. I'll ask Dr. Nero—"

"No, no! I'm sorry, Professor, but he won't understand! You're in charge of this Prom, aren't you? Please, for the sake of the female population, and for your own sanity, because I _definitely_ won't be the last to bother you, figure something out quickly!"

"But I haven't any ideas, and it's six days away!" protested the Professor.

"Hmm…" A smile played across Shelby's lips. "How about a field trip to Paris with a small allowance… say, 200 Euros? 200's not much for Dr. Nero…"

"There are more than 300 female students at HIVE (2)," said Pike, shaking his head, "and I'm not sure how much your headmaster will like having several hundred pubescent evil teens traipsing around Paris."

"He has no faith in us," she grumbled.

"He has enough faith in you student's capacity to predict the outcome."

"True enough, but don't say I didn't warn you, Professor."

Several spent-in-brooding minutes after she left, HIVEmind appeared. "Professor, might I offer a suggestion?"

* * *

The white-haired Alpha peered around the bookcase. There she was, half hidden behind book with more ones and zeros than letters.

She made no noise as he approached.

"Hi, Laura," Otto said hesitantly.

She looked up. "Oh, hello, Otto."

The obviously false cheeriness made him wince.

"Where's Annie?"

This caught him by surprise. "Uh, what?"

"Where's your-" Laura seemed to spit out the word "-_girlfriend_? She won't be happy that you're here, will she?"

"What do you mean? I'm just here to read."

"In that case," she said coldly, "pick it up, check it out, and leave."

Otto was shocked, frozen as she went back to her book. Laura had never, _ever_ said something like that to him. What the bloody hell was going on? He got a little angry.

"If I did something, just say so. Then I can fix it, and you can stop being all—"

"It's nothing you can fix," she said flatly.

"Then I _did_ do something wrong? Tell me what it is."

"There wouldn't be any point in that."

"Then can we stop with this freaking ice?"

Laura finally looked up from her book. "Otto, I hate to tell you, but when you started dating Annie, you chose a one-way road, whether or not you knew it. Now, you can't turn back. I'm sorry, but things can never go back to how they used to be."

"Don't drag Annie into this."

'You're the one dragging other people's hearts around!" Laura almost screamed.

Time froze.

Otto wasn't sure whether or not what she'd just said was meant to be ambiguous.

Laura drew a shuddering breathe. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous." She packed up her stuff and nearly sprinted out of the area.

Otto swore. "What is freaking GOING ON?"

He crashed onto the recently vacated sofa.

She was the one person he thought he'd be able to talk to, now that Wing and Shelby were… busy. He was happy for them of course, but Shelby would have been really useful to sort out the mental tangle. Franz, he knew, was experienced in these matters, but Otto wasn't _quite_ that desperate yet. Annie…

He didn't know with Annie. Not to sound like a total sappy romantic idiot, but his hormones were telling him one thing.

His heart (or gut, but that wasn't as classic) was telling him another.

If only it would give him a strait answer, in word or binary form. Not sudden waves of emotion or grins pulling at his mouth whenever he saw the redhead…

He banged his hand against his forehead.

He'd been flipping through _way_ too many of Col. Francisco's laying-about cheap paperbacks.

Why the Tactical teacher even _had_ those, he had no idea…

Gathering himself, he trudged off to go find Annie, who was probably frantically looking for him, and would probably be most unhappy when he met her.

* * *

It wasn't until the next morning that HIVEmind's idea became a reality. It was quite simple, really. HIVEmind was the best tailor at HIVE, having taken the measurements for and created every student's uniform. It wasn't hard to rearrange the machinery to execute other patterns.

Almost every girl, and many of the boys, were delighted to open their blackbox and find a design-your-own outfit. HIVE being as well funded as it was, the fabric choices encompassed everything from polyester to silk to suede to velvet. Since not all of the students were the best of artists, they had an option to browse fashion magazines and click on what they wanted, then select a color and the material and such.

It drew an uncharacteristic fit of laugher from Wing to Otto browsing _Vogue_.

It was very interesting for Nero to see all the ideas and creative energy coming from the students. Now, if only they could channel it to their training…

Laura honestly couldn't care less about these proceedings, When Shelby came to squeal and wave around her blackbox, Laura gave her no more than a sardonic "Cool!" from the redhead, who seemed to hate everything about the dance and have more important matters to deal with. Shelby couldn't blame her. Secretly, she'd tried to coax Otto into ending the Annie relationship, but… well…

Anyways, Shelby had more important things on her mind.

Empress velvet or satin? Blue, definitely. Actually, no. A deep, deep purple, although maybe light blue would bring out her eyes more…

Although red… Yeah, a bright, bold cerise would definitely make a statement, maybe with shimmery satin in one of those thigh-length designs she'd been conceiving…

No, those designs would fit black. Or white. Something classy like that…

Actually, Egyptian cotton would be better for white, with a flowing design. Something one would imagine on an actress on a sea cliff or something…

Needless to say, she was preoccupied.

Wing had quickly selected a black suit, which sent Shelby into a laughing fit for half a day straight.

He was offended.

She finally managed to get out, "Dude, just add sunglasses and you'll look like a _bodyguard_ in that thing."

The next suit, a tailored Italian, had a similar response.

"Honestly? Who are you, a banker's heir?"

By the time she had dispelled three more choices, he was fed up.

"What do _you _have in mind, then?"

Biting back her first response, she instead selected something slightly more casual.

"You'd look totally bad boy," she remarked, smiling at her choice for him of ripped jeans and a black tee that read "Ninja Boyz". In the back of her mind, she highly doubted any self-respecting gangster would wear such a slogan, but hey? Wing wouldn't know.

And he didn't seem to approve, either.

"That is… er…"

He looked blatantly scandalized.

"Never mind, then," she muttered. "You'd look totally hot in that, though."

"Don't I already look—"

Shelby stuck another outfit under his nose before he could finish the thought. "What think you, Mr. No Fun?"

He squinted at the outfit slightly less ratty looking garb, a three-quarter sleeve plaid button up with khaki shorts that one might see on a boy his age in the outside world.

"Better, but…"

"Wing, you are _impossible_!"

"It would be helpful if you were to give me the choice of _dignified_ attire. Of all the patterns in the world—"

"Fine! Go to Prom dressed as a rich, snooty adult, then!"

Wing grumbled something about Americans and fashion, then asked to have his blackbox back.

An hour later, they'd settled on a dress shirt and slacks.

Shelby was miffed.

Wing was disgruntled.

But they tried to look on the bright side.

Now, for the material…

And a whole different discussion/battle-of-wills began.

They were far from the only ones buzzing at HIVE. Practically every hormonal junior supervillain was running around, attending to attire, gossip, last minute dates (and most senior supervillains were doing their best to look small and insignificant, except, of course, for Professor Pike), and unsurprisingly so.

The big night was in three days.

* * *

**(1) Pun? Neh.**

**(2) According to what I gathered from book 1, that (a) there are about 24 students in each Alpha intake and (b) the Alpha stream is the smallest. 24 divided by 2, times 4 streams, times 6 years, plus a few extra is over 300. I imagine the dining hall to have a capacity of about 700.**

* * *

**Ah… Wingelby banter…**

**Review, review, review…**

…**because next chapter's the big one.**

**Dear Wingelby fans, you're in for a treat.**

**Or veggies.**

**Opinions may differ.**

**:)pidge**

**While you wait, there's currently a little song I composed to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" on my bio page. It's bad. But it's entertainment.**

**If you're ever bored, I _do _post at the top of the page about twice a week.**

**Just thought I'd mention. **


	10. Luuuv

**All I'm going to say before we commence: Listen to "Halo" (Beyonce), at least during the fourth segment.**

**Bon appetite. ;)**

* * *

"Whoa. Shel, that's gorgeous." Laura stared at the glittering, midnight blue spaghetti-strapped satin dress that extended to just above the blonde's knees.

Shelby grinned. Her hair was in a simple half ponytail that somehow looked just right with her outfit. "Like it? Makes you wish you'd gotten one too, huh?"

"I'm happy with these jeans," muttered the other girl, who had taken advantage of the situation to get some non-jumpsuit clothes, but nothing fancy.

Shelby checked her blackbox. "Five-thirty. Wing should be here any—"

A knock sounded at the door. Squealing with delight, Shelby wrested it open as Laura attempted to blend in with the wall.

Wing stepped in, his eyes alight with excitement. "You look… beautiful."

Shelby's breath caught as she took in how _he_ looked. Wing, _her _Wing, who never failed to make her stomach leap pleasantly, now looked…

"You're don't look too bad yourself, big guy." Mentally, she cursed herself. _Epic_ understatement.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Minutes, maybe.

Laura cleared her throat. " 'Scuse me. I'll be off now."

Wing looked concerned as she left. "Where's she off to?"

"Library."

"Oh."

Another silence fell. Then, Wing held out his arm.

A chorus of squeals and swoons erupted inside of Shelby, threatening to break free. Very nearly melting into a puddle, she took his arm.

* * *

"Wow," Otto managed. "You look… wow."

Annie smiled happily, giving a little twirl so that the sheer pink fabric gleamed in the light of the corridor between their rooms. "Thank you."

The white-haired Alpha briefly smiled, his attention distracted by a flash of red hair vanishing around the corner.

* * *

Nigel was at peace.

He laid spread eagled on his bed, a laptop full of movies on his stomach and a giant bowl of caramel popcorn by his side.

_This_ was what he wanted. Not running around, fixing up harebrained shipping schemes. Not sitting through long-winded (but admittedly hilarious) Ninja Matchmaker meetings, enduring all the dropped hints that they ought to hook him up while they were at it. Not listening to Franz ramble on about his outfit (Nigel had made the mistake of calling him "girly" in front of Shelby, who exploded into a fit about sexist pigs). _Definitely_ not scrubbing dishes (Ms. Leon had blamed him for aforementioned commotion; the blonde had mysteriously vanished).

No. Nigel was happiest like this.

Idle.

Single.

In pajamas.

With a laptop full of movies and a big bowl of caramel popcorn from a species of corn that he'd bred himself.

Ah, bachelorhood…

* * *

Wing gave a small gasp as they entered the cavern previously functioning as the mess hall. Now, swathed in streamers, balloons, and pretty much everything one would expect at a party— just supersized to meet supervillain standards. Music he didn't recognize (and was therefore most likely something contemporary) was playing from several huge loudspeakers, one of which they passed right by, causing the poor boy to cover his ears. A… _what were they called? PJs? No_… DJ was positioned near a glittering dance floor, several dozen had already started… well, Wing couldn't exactly call what they were doing _dancing_…

Shelby pseudo-sniffled. "Ah, nostalgia…"

Of course, Pike and the team (or maybe just the old professor) had found it necessary to throw in some extra statements, like roller-skating (not roller-blading; Wing knew the difference) waiters and waitresses, many of which looked like students having the time of their lives. Drinks, hot and cold, balanced on their precarious trays.

Wing wasn't sure exactly where they were headed, but soon found that Shelby was tugging him in the direction of the food, although "food" hardly exemplified what was there. As they approached, cupcakes, tartlets, and various hors d'oeuvres came into view, heaping over several long tables. Strawberries were positioned around a huge, seven-tiered white chocolate fountain.

And that was only a fraction.

The blonde gave a little moan as they neared a platter of colorful mochi ice cream. "Oh, man…"

And with that, she attacked the food.

Wing couldn't resist a few strawberries, ever careful not to get chocolate on his clothes.

Shelby noticed this, and, through a mouthful of food, managed, "Loosen up, big guy. Here, try a deviled egg."

It really was good, and so were the mochi and the cupcakes and now he really ought to try the raspberry soufflé before he got too full…

But of course, eating is far from the primary focus of a party like this. Before he knew it, Shelby was once again dragging him elsewhere. This time, their destination appeared to be the dance floor.

They attracted a lot of attention as they made their way. Heads turned to sneak a an envious glimpse at the two, particularly those of the female population.

"Ignore them," Shelby whispered, as Wing started looking fidgety.

"I am doing so," he replied as calmly as he could. While it was true that the stares were bugging him a little, what was _really _making him nervous was the fact that he would soon be expected to dance.

Which Wing did not know how to do.

As a matter of fact, it had been one of his increasingly urgent concerns ever since the dance was announced. Now, he felt quite queasy.

They stopped near the center of the floor. Shelby looked up at him. "I suppose I should teach you now, huh?"

"How did you—"

"Women's intuition." She smirked. 'You're not exactly stealthy with your fears… at least not with me."

The music had changed to something slower, as if on cue. He recognized this singer. The girl in front of him had mentioned the name _Beyonce_ several times. She was singing something about a halo…

_You're everything I need and more_

_It's written all over your face_

"So…" Shelby continued. "You put your hand here… you'll have to stop twitching so much, Wing…"

He wasn't really listening. Their faces were close. _Very_ close. And they were only getting closer with every adjustment and instruction Shelby made, which were, in truth, all going in one ear and out the other. Then, she looked up and grinned. Apparently, they were properly positioned.

_Hit me like a ray of sun_

_Shining through my darkest night_

Wing felt bad about ruining the fruit of her meticulous arranging efforts, but he _had_ to do it. It wasn't much of a change, really. The hands around her waist just slipped further around, and pulled her forward to close the distance between their mouths…

Shelby was startled, but only momentarily. Wing could feel her smiling as she leaned in, tilting her head to adjust comfortably and wrapping her hands around his neck.

Suddenly, Wing didn't fear dancing quite as much as he did before.

Hidden in the shadows, a figure watched the proceedings with the tiniest of smiles.

"So sickeningly sweet, that," murmured pigeonattack.

* * *

Otto watched the two, (sort of) dancing a little ways away. He envied how happy they were. Their path had been so clear of bumps and boulders and forks and other obstacles (at least as far as he was aware).

The albino was sipping hot chocolate next to the chocolate fountain (heh), waiting for Annie to come back from the restroom.

Otto wished he could truthfully tell himself he was happy with Annie. She was smart, sweet, and definitely gorgeous. There wasn't anything wrong with her. It was just that there was someone _else_ with those qualities, which he'd been totally taking for granted. Someone who, when he stopped to think about it, meant more to him than anyone else, including the girl currently running up to him excitedly.

"Come on!" said Annie, grabbing his arm and pulling him over to the dance floor. "I just requested 'Firework' and they'll play it next!"

"Oh! Cool." Otto tried to sound enthusiastic.

Annie was many things, but dense wasn't one of them. "Something's bothering you."

"Nothing," Otto lied.

"Tell me," she begged.

"Fine," he sighed. "I think I'm lactose intolerant."

She looked surprise. "That's it?"

" 'That's it'? I won't be able to have dairy anymore! This is terrible!"

"Well, eggs don't have lactose. Plus, soymilk is better than cow anyways. When'd you realize it?"

"Just now, when I drank that hot chocolate."

"Oh. Let's dance."

Luckily, she didn't see the relief on Otto's features. "Firework" had started up.

For some reason, Otto could not kid himself that he was having the time of his life as they danced. Sure, they were one of the more graceful couples (many of the junior super villains were awkwardly moving or simply bobbing up and down alone).

Then came the climax of the song. Annie was looking up at him, her eyes wide and hopeful… her eyelids fluttered shut... Otto felt himself leaning in…

"INCOMING!"

A roller-skating waitress burst between the two, the impact sending piña coladas in every direction. Several people screamed (guys mostly) and Otto jumped back, stunned.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" the waitress yelled, and Otto realized that she was talking to him. "YOU'VE GOT A DATE WITH DESTINY!"

"Wha—"

"THE LIBRARY, GENIUS, THE LIBRARY! NO, I'M _NOT_ CLEANING THIS MESS. IT'S YOUR FAULT FOR BEING IN THE WAY! I _DID_ WARN YOU."

It took him a while to realize that she was no longer talking to him. Then, shaking his head clear at this odd turn of events, he turned and made for the library at warp speed.

Partly to get away from the commotion.

Partly because the aforementioned commotion was the perfect cover to skedaddle.

Partly because he _knew_ she'd be there. Funny how it had taken a crazy girl with a hyperactive complex—on wheels— to force him to answer the question that had been nagging at his mind the whole time he was at the dance:

_What the _bloody hell_ am I doing here?_

He sprinted past flyer upon flyer advertising things that no longer mattered to him. In fact, he couldn't imagine ever having been interested in that stupid dance. He mentally kicked himself again and again for letting the chance to be with her drift past him… now he had to get there… and tell her… but she probably hated him, now; _he_ sure hated himself, and there was no reason she shouldn't, after every idiocy he'd committed…

And there it was.

The library he loved, and within it, the girl he…

Feeling (shamelessly) like a soap opera star, Otto yanked open the door.

* * *

Hmmm…

**I realize the lyrics aren't consecutive. I factored in time for Wing's thoughts.**

**You know that bobbing up and down thing that most people do at dances? I call it "The Mushroom".**

**Ah, soap opera-esque drama…**

**:)pidge**


	11. and Not Hate

**As a result of the welcome influx of assorted data from assorted sources, I discovered the *!$# calls-herself-a-friggin-muse lazy prat at a pigeon convention near the SF Embarcadero, mingling with her avian counterparts and harassing tourists. Understandably irate, I snatched her by the ankle and shoved her in a shiny, brand-new golden birdcage, where she's currently cussing up a storm.**

**For your support, your encouragement, your patience, and your aid, I thank you all. :3**

**At least **_**some**_** people don't take me for granted.**

**Ah, but I'm (purposely) delaying once more.**

**Without further ado, pigeonattack presents THE OTTRA INSTALLMENT.**

* * *

_"...too much work..."_

~pigeonattack, on the subject of her nonexistent romantic affairs

* * *

Laura kept telling herself that things were just the way she liked them to be.

The redhead was in a big, big library full of big, big books full of big, big words about teeny, weeny microchips and nano particles.

Ah. Just right.

Sure, she was alone in this big, big library, but that meant there were zero distractions. She'd had _plenty_ (too much) of those lately. Now, she could _finally_ concentrate on something other than proms and goldfish and dresses and snow-white hair.

Tonight, she'd be considering the probability of the existence of the Higgs Boson.

For several hours, her eyes moved up and down the black markings on white sheets, hands moving automatically to flip the pages.

Not that any reading got done.

Her train of thoughts (all of which she shouldn't have been thinking, anyways) was thrown off course when a steadily— and quickly— approaching sound indicated a new arrival. She scowled in irritation. Wasn't a body entitled to some peace and quiet in a _library_? Who'd be around tonight of all nights, anyways?

Her questions were answered when a familiar but rather unwelcome face burst from an alley of bookshelves, panting hard. Laura whipped her eyes back to her book, making no acknowledgement of the newcomer's presence.

"Laura…" Otto gasped breathlessly.

"What do you want, Malpense?" Laura immediately regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. Otto winced.

"I… I just wanted to…to sit here a while," he finished lamely.

"Oh. Go ahead."

Otto seemed just as surprised as _she_ was at this response, but accepted the assent and sat down next to her. He did not pull out a book. She could not process a single word on the papers before her. Finally, after several excruciating minutes of silence, she couldn't stand the awkward tension any longer.

"Where's Annie?" she asked, then kicked herself inwardly as another look of pain flickered across his face.

"Uh…I…kinda…left her at the dance," muttered Otto.

Laura dropped the heavy book with a proportionately heavy _thunk_. "No way. How could you do that?" she asked incredulously.

Otto cracked a lopsided grin. "She'll be okay. I saw Franz mopping up the spilled piña colada on her dress. He seemed to enjoy it greatly."

Laura colored at the implication. "Dirty, much, Otto?"

He grinned at the renewed usage of his given name. "Only being truthful."

She laughed, and then, suddenly, they were both laughing so hard it was as if nothing, no one, had ever come between the two. The book lay forgotten as Otto and Laura rolled around, clutching their stomachs, sniggering at what really wasn't that funny of a joke, but nevertheless had broken the ice between the two. In the back of her mind, she considered how stupid it was that their relationship was suddenly so happy-go-lucky after just a few exchanges. Meh, whatev.

Finally, after a lo-o-ong time, they were upright and next to each other, gasping for breath.

There was another silence, but this one wasn't nearly as uncomfortable. Otto was the one to break it.

"So…" he began quietly, in a rather serious tone that caused Laura to turn and face him. "I was just wondering… and you don't have to answer this right now either…"

Her heart was clichéd-ly beating like the roll of a timpani. She had a feeling she knew what was coming, and quickly composed her face into a vaguely interested expression.

He swallowed. "What… what are we to each other?"

Her heart practically stopped, the stupid hope disappearing down the drain. What the hell did he mean by _that_?

"I mean… well… most of the time, I think we're friends. Really, really, _really_ close friends. So close, it's like… Anyways, then there are times when I think we're… a little… _more_ than that… but then, especially lately, sometimes it's like you completely, utterly hate me. And I know I was a total jerk these past weeks—"

"It wasn't your fault," Laura whispered.

"Let me finish." Otto's voice had weakened, but now the tremble vanished as he determinedly continued. "I want to know… What do _you_ think about… us?"

Laura stared down at the floor. What a question. How in the world could she phrase what she wanted to say? And how in the world had they gone from icy, to giggly, to… _this_— all in the space of a few exchanges?

Unbidden, images flashed through her mind: the first time she'd seen him, years ago when they were just thirteen; sitting across from him in Tech that year, also for the first time, and noticing his bright, piercing eyes and blushing (hopefully inwardly) at the realization of how frickin chic-flick-ish the situation was; the late nights spent in preparation for their failed escape attempt; every perilous instance since then that she'd been sure his luck would run out, and the terror she'd felt each time; the fury and hurt every time she saw him with that _Annie_…

So much to say, with no _idea_ of how to begin.

"I…" she stammered. "I… don't hate you."

Otto looked surprised, and then a little angry. Hurt. "That's it? I pour out my _heart_… and that's _all_ you can say?"

Laura took a deep breath, shaking her head. "No, that's not it. I—don't hate—you. I've always—not hated—you. With everything in me, I—don't hate—you." She put all the emotion she could muster in to the two syllables, her eyes begging him to understand. "Do you get it? I—don't hate— you."

The boy next to her sat in silence, realization slowly dawning. As soon as she saw this, Laura stood to leave. "That's… that's it," she muttered.

Otto appeared in front of her, so quickly he seemed to have materialized there. Laura blushed at the close proximity, attempting to sidestep him, until he whispered, "I…don't hate you, too."

They stared at each other. Laura searched his face, trying to discern if he really meant what she really, _really _hoped he did. She could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah." His gaze never wavered.

In the ringing silence, her suddenly hyperactive senses took in every minute detail of their surroundings: the fireplace crackling a little ways away, the smell of old books, the book shelf right at her back, his face, five inches away… no, four… oh, wait, _three…_

Smiling for real, Laura threw caution to the winds and her arms around Otto's neck, immediately closing the remaining distance between them. Oh, this felt _wonderful_, so damn _good_, his mouth was every bit as warm as she'd imagined, and she'd been waiting so _long_ to do this, and to hell with any other thoughts that didn't concern what she was feeling _right now_, and she'd always doubted the existence of those clichéd fireworks, but she could actually _see_ them exploding before her as she closed her eyelids, and from somewhere she could hear the song "Firework", maybe at the dance or maybe in her imagination but screw thoughts of the dance because here _she, Laura Brand was kissing Otto Malpense_, and it was the _best_ feeling to finally have said (however indirectly) that she loved him, and he loved her back, after all this agony, and now she could barely form a coherent thought because his hands had moved to her lower back to pull her even closer…

When they finally broke apart, arms lingering around each other, huge grins were plastered to each of their flushed faces.

They weren't sure how much time had passed, but frankly, they couldn't care less. Just standing there in that position was heavenly.

"Do you… do you want to go to the party?" Otto asked quietly.

"Um, no thanks," Laura muttered. "I'm not into that kind of thing."

Otto grinned. "Didn't think so." He led her over to what used to be and now was again their favorite spot: a single sofa in a far corner of the library.

As they sat, Laura couldn't resist asking, "So… what's up with Wing and Shelby?"

"They're probably wearing their feet out right now… or their tongues… or their—"

"Otto, you're sick."

"Hm?"

"Never mind. So… they're together at last?"

"Together forever."

There was a comfortable silence as music from a certain ironically named musical played through their heads.

"So…" Laura mentally rolled her eyes at her third consecutive usage of the sentence starter. "…what are we now? You know, like, are we…"

"Yeah. We are."

"Oh. Okay." Experiencing another sensation of warmth that wasn't entirely from the fireplace in front of them, Laura leaned into his shoulder, the way she always had. Slightly hesitantly, Otto took the liberty of wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

It seemed that everything had changed.

In a way, though, nothing had.

They were two geeks who loved each other, but were too stubborn to admit it—

-until now.

FIN

* * *

**Wow. That was exhausting, but so satisfying… even though there **_**are**_** a lot of things I don't still like about this chapter.**

**Please feel free to whine about whatever bits and attributes you didn't like.**

**Still, they really do love each other, don't they? I'm sorry for getting them together in the end, (how utterly orthodox) but I felt like these two kinda (or maybe more than kinda) deserve it.**

**If you read this story and laughed or smiled, thank you. If you reviewed any chapter, double thank you. If you story alerted, triple thank you. If you were with "Prom" from the beginning, loyally reviewed every chapter without fail, and (in some cases) reduced me to little more than a little ball rolling on the floor, clutching its stomach, thank you for keeping me going. You guys, all of you, are the reason I write.**

**With that said, stay tuned for the epilogue(!)**

**;)pidge**

**PS: By the way, if you caught the ironically named musical thing, you've got pigeonattack's awe and admiration. I couldn't resist. As usual. ;3**


	12. Epiclogue D

**Pre-finale note: Look out for a quintet of one-shots, soon to come. Author Alert subscriptions help. ;D**

"_Quoth the Raven…"_

E. A. P.

* * *

"Dr. Nero? Dr. Nero! Dr. _Ne-e-e-_ro!" Professor Pike knocked again on the door to the Headmaster's Quarters. HIVEmind had told the professor that the poor Headmaster had been feeling under the weather as of late, and was spending much of his time in bed. Pike was very sympathetic. Why else would someone want to miss out on the big party last night? It was oh-so exciting! Several detention students were currently sweeping the confetti and scrubbing overturned crème brulé, and the like.

No answer came from the other side of the door.

"Alright, Doctor," Professor Pike called. "I don't want to disturb you. I just wanted to let you know that the party last night was a huge success! The students had a great time; the preparations and organization were excellent (whoever was in charge of that ought to have a raise). Cleanup is under way, and I expect the cafeteria and dining hall should be back to normal within a week, at most! Have a good rest, now."

Smiling jovially, he left.

Less than a minute later, another person arrived to pound on the door.

Merry Raven did not look tickled pink.

"_Never _again, Max. It was the _worst_ night of my life, _counting_ the occasion whence I resided in the former Egyptian dictator's electrocuted air vents. In one twelve-hour period, I broke up _three_ brawls that Security couldn't handle, walked in on more than _ten_ sessions that _don't_ need describing and will likely _traumatize_ me forever, and got _hit_ by an airborne tomato-sauce-covered flat Italian _projectile_. Never, NEVER more."

A small wimper penetrated the barrier that was all that stood between a quivering lump of blankets and its bodyguard's wrath.

Collecting herself with a deep breath, Raven stalked off, not even bothering to acknowledge how seldom seen those fits of fury were.

Doctor Maximillian Nero, Headmaster of the Higher Institute of Villainous Education, Supreme Leader of the Global League of Villainous Enterprises, Esteemed and Valued Friend and Adviser of the Great Diabolous Darkdoom, Esquire, poked his head out from under his cozy fleece blankie. After a few noiseless minutes, he sighed with relief. No more danger.

Turning his head back to the TV, he resumed the much safer world of Pokémon gaming.

FIN

* * *

**roosts . blogspot . com**

_**Check it out. See you there.**_


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